Holding On and Letting Go
by LillyZ
Summary: Takes place several months after Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Susan never forgot about Narnia and her love for Caspian. What happens when the walls she had built to protect herself from the pain come tumbling down? Will she continue to be the shallow party girl everyone presumes her to be, go back to being her old self, or turn to a darker, more dangerous place? A story in two parts
1. Chapter 1: Crumbling Walls

AN:This is my first Chronicles of Narnia fanfic. Susan has always been my favorite character, and I hate the way Prince Caspian ended as well as her not dying with them in The Last Battle.I did some research and found no records of when Susan and her parents returned to England, so I took the liberty of extending their stay due to the war and the Germans making passage hard. Enjoy!

AN: This is the updated version. The difference is only in time- Susan and her parents only stayed in America for the summer.

Holding On and Letting Go

Part I: Giving In

Chapter 1

Susan let the sheets of paper slip out of her hands. Her eyes stared blankly out to the garden, and her face was frozen, emotionless.

But inside she was overwhelmed. For weeks, _months_, she had been suppressing the feelings, but now her emotions had become too strong. The burden of keeping them hidden was no longer one she could bear. She felt lost, lonely, misunderstood. She missed her home terribly—her _real_ home, with her siblings, in Narnia. Instead, she was stuck here.

True, she told everyone everything was okay. In fact, things were better than okay; they were great, marvelous, fantastic. She loved being the life of every party; being every man's dream. She loved America; the people were amazing. She could not believe how lucky she was to have come here with her parents. She is so lucky; the luckiest girl alive…

No matter how many times she said these words, no matter to whom she spoke them, when it came down to it, these words were never enough to convince her. She knew how incredibly lucky she was, but knowing and believing it herself are not the same things.

Her hand began to tremble and she clasped it into a fist. She could not let herself slip.

Even her own siblings knew nothing of her struggle. After the first night back in England, when everything had sunk in, she swore she would never let her true feelings show. She would never go back to Narnia; she would never see her love, Caspian. She felt betrayed, broken hearted, longing for a land and a love that was lost [to her]. She had cried all through the first night, big, salty tears of anguish. The pain was too much, too big and too hurting for her to be able to deal with.

But now… now things were different. The walls she had built around herself cracked when she read Lucy's old letter. Her mother had brought it to her the day before; it was from two months ago—the mail ship got delayed because of the Germans, according to the post office. Susan's heart pinched in her chest. Sweet, innocent Lucy, the purest of them all. Her pure and faithful heart and good intentions made her the best of them all; the most deserving of Narnia. She did not mean to hurt Susan, not at all. She had meant to remind her, remind her of the far away magical land of Narnia, where they were queens and their brothers kings. The land where they had had adventures, where they were royalty; loved by their people. The land where Caspian still was, loving her and missing her…

Lucy's word were excited, _thrilled_ to tell her of her latest adventure with Edmund in Narnia. She had only meant to bring up the old memories; how was she to know they did not need to be brought up? How was she to know that Susan could not shake them from her head; that they burdened her heart? It was her own fault—and Susan knew it—that no one knew how she truly felt. After all, she had been the one to build the walls around her heart and put on the mask of joy and celebration.

Susan felt warm liquid on her palm and raised it to look at it. She had clenched her fist so tightly that she dug her fingers into her own skin. The four tiny half-crescent marks bled, and the blood trickled down to her wrist. A drop fell to the floor.

She knew it was no use. She looked at the crimson half-crescents and knew her efforts to ignore her feelings were hopeless. The wall she had built around heart crumbled to the ground like sand, and her strength vanished with it.

A tear slid down her cheek and she fell to the window seat where she sat, balled up on herself, and crying shamelessly. Anguish and despair overtook her.

AN: So, what do you think? Leave a comment! (No need to be afraid of being too harsh, I can take it). I will be posting approximately once a week—in case you were wondering…


	2. Chapter 2: Strange Letter

**AN:** After considerable thought and reading your reviews, I have decided to return this story to its original time—not the one that it took place in during the time I mentioned in the author's note in the beginning of the previous chapter, but two years earlier, right after The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I have made a few minor changes in the first chapter and I recommend you read it again, but it is not 'a _must_'.

A little Narnia trivia: the Last Battle only takes place in 1949; hence Susan's family is still alive in this story (which happens in the summer-fall of 1942).

Also, while this is written as a Susan/Peter story, it is also very much a Susan/Caspian story. In the first part of this story you can see mostly the dialogue between Peter's and Susan's coping with the situation, which is why I decided to categorize the story so. When we get to the second part I'll change it to a Susan/Caspian story.

So, after I have finished my ramblings… on with the story!

Chapter 2

"Is there anything for me?" Peter asked the elderly Mrs. Macready.

She shuffled through the letter and then handed him one. "I believe this is from your mother," she said.

Peter snatched the envelope from her hand, thanked her, and raced up the stairs to the library. He closed the door behind him, and hurried to find a letter opener on the big desk.

This part of the library provided him his own private study room. It was the ideal place: it was at the very far edge of the library, the desk next to a window which provided good lighting, and sitting in the library meant he would not have to lug books and his study things around the house.

Peter cut the top of the envelope open and pulled out a sheet of paper covered in his mother's neat cursive letters.

"_My dearest Peter,_" it read,

_"I worry about your sister; she's changed, and I fear not for the better. I did not worry when she turned down the first invitation, saying she's feeling ill. My suspicions began to rise when she turned down a second invitation nearly a week later, and with no excuse this time. It was odd behavior; you know how Susan's been—she's a girl of society, lively, cheerful, flirtatious even._

_Peter, she's gone now. That girl is gone._

_Susan has not accepted an invitation in weeks, and has been turning down every offer of an outing and leaving the house. She has even turned down her courtiers, whose attentions she used to relish in. She doesn't leave the house anymore, only leaving her room to go out to the garden, where she wanders around or sits for hours. She is becoming more and more silent every day. She refuses food, and is growing paler and thinner with each day that goes by. Her eyes are no longer gentle and happy, but saddened and pained, at times red from crying._

_I am worried an illness has come over her. I have tried to ask her, but she only shakes her head and turns away. She refuses to speak with us, or anyone. At night she wakes screaming, tears in her eyes, and an expression so terrified, one might think she saw a ghost._

_I fear for her, my son. She is slipping away; I do not wish to lose my daughter._

_I know you have a special bond with her. Write to her Peter. She writes considerably, but never sends any letters. Perhaps if you write her she shall write back._

_I apologize for my morbidity, dear. Your father and I have been doing well, all things considered. There is talk about the Germans making the voyage back to England difficult, but as of now, our plans remain the same. We will be leaving in a few weeks' time._

_I hope you are well, and that you are faring well in your studies._

_Much love,_

_Mum_

_P.S. - Say nothing to your siblings in the matter of Susan. _

Peter folded the papers and sighed deeply. He put them back in the envelope and put it on the corner of his desk.

He sat in the big leather chair, thinking.

The behavior his mother described truly _was _strange—especially for remembered how she had been after they had come back from Narnia; she had grown distant from them, and turned into a lady of society, preferring outings and courtiers to quiet nights in front of the fireplace with her siblings. She had even forgotten about Narnia. She had become lively, spirited; yet closed herself to her family.

What could have happened that had caused Susan to change her behavior so? What could be so great, so terrible, to cause his sister to sink into such a depression?

Peter thought back to the days of their reign during the Golden Age in Narnia. After leaving Taashbaan and fleeing from Rabadash Susan had been distant. She could be easily distracted, and was often wandering Cair Paravel's gardens on her own. She scarcely ate; more often than not she had to be reminded of meals and of her body's need for nourishment.

Peter's heart missed a beat. Could it be that she had been…? He couldn't finish the thought.

No, he concluded, if Susan had been… attacked, surely their parents would have noticed. She would have had bruises or wounds; this kind of things did not go unnoticed.

Peter shook the troubling thoughts from his mind as best as he could, and returned to his studies.

**AN:** So… what do you think? Review and let me know!

I want to thank all those who follow this story, made it a favorite, and/or

reviewed! It really makes my day!


	3. Author's Note

I know, I know, you were hoping this is a new chapter. Well, it's not, but one is coming really soon; I promise!

I've decided to add a couple of things to the story. First, chapters will get names from now on. Second, each chapter will begin with a quote (mostly from songs) that I feel relate to the chapter, and may help you—as the readers—to better understand my thoughts of the chapter—as the author. I hope you'll like these changes, or at least not be mean about them. I contemplated making these changes for some time, and I was kind of afraid of your reactions. (Come to think of it, maybe I should have made a pool for you guys to vote on, but I'm still new to the site and hadn't thought of that. Besides' I have no idea how to work those… O.O ). Anyway… I hope this goes over well.

This is for the first chapter:

Name: Crumbling Walls

Quote:

**Disarm you with a smile****  
****And leave you like they left me here****  
****To wither in denial****  
****The bitterness of one who's left alone****  
****Ooh, the years burn****  
****Ooh, the years burn, burn, burn**

**-Disarm, Smashing Pumpkins**

Chapter 2:

Name: Strange Letter

Quote:

**Hello my friend, we meet again****  
****It's been awhile, where should we begin?****  
****Feels like forever**

…

**We've seen our share of ups and downs****  
****Oh how quickly life can turn around****  
****In an instant**

**-My Sacrifice, Creed**


	4. Chapter3: Home?

**AN:** Sorry for the huge delay; you know, school, work, other excuses, blah, blah, blah….

I realized I haven't written a disclaimer, so here is one now:

I do not own, nor am a part of the Narnia series (I wish I was!). All of the characters belong to the brilliant C.S. Lewis, who was kind enough to create this world for us and distribute it through books. I am in no way part of the movie productions of the Chronicles of Narnia (I'm not sure it applies to this story, but just in case). I only own the plot, which I hope you like

**I've got my memories****  
****Always inside of me****  
****But I can't go back****  
****Back to how it was****  
****I believe you now****  
****I've come too far****  
****No I can't go back****  
****Back to how it was**

**-This Is Home, Switchfoot**

**3. Home?**

"Oh, I've got the most wonderful news!" Helen Pevensie cried cheerfully as she entered the house.

Susan—who sat in the guestroom staring blankly at the street—did not avert her gaze, but listened a little more closely to the rest of her mother's words.

"It is safe to travel back to England! I've bought the tickets; we're going home!"

Home?

Susan unfolded her legs and got up from her seat. She walked carefully to the kitchen where her parents stood and talked. She stood at the doorway and spoke. "Are we going back to England?"

Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie looked up at their daughter's question in surprise. She had not spoken to them—at all, in fact—for so long, that it was strange to hear her voice again.

"Are we going back to England?" Susan asked again. Her voice was strong, clear, yet filled with sadness and anguish.

"Yes sweetheart," her mother walked to her and put a hand on her upper arm, "we are going back home, to England."

"When do we leave?" Mr. Pevensie asked.

Helen looked at the tickets in her hand. "In ten days," she answered.

Susan nodded. "I shall go pack my belongings." And she walked away. She made her way to her room, walking quickly down the hall. She entered her room and closed the door behind her. For a moment she stood frozen, simply staring at the room.

It had been three weeks since she had read Lucy's letter; three weeks since her walls had fallen and she had fallen apart with them.

She looked around the room, remembering her room back in England, and then her bed chambers back in her other home—in Narnia. Compared to both, this room was awfully plain, especially compared to her Narnian bed chambers from the Golden Age. The barren white walls were meek in comparison with the wall tapestries in Narnia. The sheer white curtains here did not match the grandiosity of the heavy velvet curtains in Narnia, nor the thick ones in her room in England. Even the view outside the window—the American street versus the familiar, beloved street of London, or the magnificent woods and sea and coast of Narnia…

Susan sighed and pulled a cloth duffle bag from under her bed. She began taking her dresses out of the wardrobe, folding them and laying them in the bag. She also collected her few books and a pair of shoes.

There was a light knock on the door behind her. "Come in," she said softly, and her mother and entered the room.

"Supper is ready, dear."

Susan nodded, and surprised her mother by getting up and following her to the dining room.

Susan had barely eaten in the past three weeks since reading Lucy's letter. She had no need for the food to sustain her… for she had no reason to keep living…She had wanted to die. But now that she knew there was hope, things were a little different. She knew her will was strong enough to fight back her feelings and allow her to live through the journey back to England. If she could not go to her true home in Narnia and live a full life there, she would allow herself to die in her other home, and not give in to her weakness.

Susan and her stupid weaknesses, she thought to herself as they reached the bottom of the stairs, always giving in to them and never being brave like Peter or Lucy, or even Edmund.

This time she would not give in. This time she would fight. Even if just for a little while…

She ate a nearly full meal that day.

**AN**: As always, make sure to review! The next chapter will be longer—much, much longer—the longest so far, which is why it may take me a little longer to upload it, but I hope not. It should be done and uploaded by Thursday or this weekend.


	5. Chapter 4: Conversations

**Untouchable like**** a**** distant diamond sky****  
****I'm reaching out****  
****And I just**** c****an't tell you why****  
****I'm caught up in you****  
****I'm caught up in you******

**Untouchable**

**Burning**** b****righter than the sun****  
****And when you're close****  
****I feel like coming undone******

**In the middle of the night****  
****When I'm in this dream****  
****It's like**** a ****million little stars****  
****Spelling out your name****  
****You gotta come on, come on****  
****Say that we'll be together****  
****Come on, come on****  
****Little taste of heaven**

**-Untouchable, Taylor Swift**

**4. Conversations**

Susan lay in her bed and stared up at the bottom of the bed above her. She had been awake for hours; she hadn't been able to fall asleep after her last nightmare. She had been lying awake for hours; soon it would be dawn.

They had been at sea for six days; most of their journey back to England was already behind them. Susan thought of the day of their departure; how they had gotten to the port, the loading luggage, the people boarding the ship. She thought of the ship itself; it was big and made of metal, with big chimneys that had smoke protruding from their tops, several decks, and portholes. She had only been on a ship like this once before—when they came to America. But the smell and the feeling of the sea were familiar to her, and she longed for it.

Susan closed her eyes and the image of the Splendor Hyaline floated behind her closed lids. The memory of the large wooden ship—on its one-leveled deck, silken sails, great stern lanterns, and the swan's head carved at her prow and the carved swan's wings coming back almost to her waist—made her long for the ocean again.

She opened her eyes and climbed out of her bed. She pulled on a pair of slippers and put on her heavy coat which had been hanging on a hook in the door. She turned the doorknob and slipped out of the room ever so silently as to not wake her cabin mates (they were four girls in the cabin, all around the same age; daughters of employees in the British Embassy and friends of Susan's parents, whose parents preferred to have a cabin of their own so they stuck their daughters together).

The soles of her slippers were so thin, she could almost feel the heavy carpeting of the hall under her feet. Once the door was closed behind her, she paced quickly towards the grand stairwell. The soft footfalls barely echoed off the metal walls, and she was able to escape the ship's corridors unnoticed. She climbed the stairs all the way to the main deck. She ignored the big glass doors that led to the first class dining room and continued to the metal door leading outside. She pushed down the lever and pushed the heavy door open.

The cold air of the early morning hours engulfed her and whipped her hair wildly. She breathed deeply, the freezing air filling her lungs. The cold burned slightly, but it was welcome pain, an awakening pain.

Susan closed the door behind her and walked to the edge of the ship. She leaned on the railing and looked out to the open ocean and the broad sky. The ocean was a deep blue now, so dark it was nearly black. The sky… they were the most beautiful combination of reds, oranges, pink streaks and many more fiery shades; so many it was tiring to try and count them all. The beauty of it all took her breath away.

"Good morning miss; strange meeting you here this early in the day."

Susan turned in surprise at the greeting. A young man, just a little older than her, stood a few paces away, smiling. He was tall and blond with strange dark-amber eyes. He wore white sailor's uniforms and a white sailor's cap. A sailor working on the first class level.

"My name is Leo, Leonard Martin ma'am." He took his hat off and bowed slightly. "Is there anything I can do for you this morning?"

Susan looked back out to the sea. The sun was just rising over the water line, making the fiery rays of light nearly blinding as they lit up the break of day. Even the ocean was gradually becoming a lighter blue.

"Where are you from, Leo?" she asked quietly.

The regal tone of her voice shocked him, and he was mesmerized by her smooth British accent and gentle beauty and grace.

"Kentucky, ma'am," he answered, bewildered.

"Kentucky…" Susan rolled the strange foreign name on her tongue. "What is it like?"

She listened as he described the open plains, forests and mountains, the quiet of the countryside, and the coalmines and railroads his brothers worked on.

"You love it…" Susan murmured when he finished.

"Yes," he answered, though her words were not a question.

"Then why did you leave?"

"Why did _you_?"

She glared back at him, horrified. He couldn't possibly know she had left Narnia.

Leo must have realized his mistake and apologize. "I am sorry if I have offended you; I only meant to ask you why you left your country—clearly you are from England."

Susan relaxed, along with her mind.

"I love my home and the people of my town. But even the wide fields and large mountains can become too small for some.

"I have always wanted to travel the world, see places.

"When I was fifteen, my uncle took me to the sea for the first time. I have been in love with it ever since." He paused, and a smile of pure bliss spread on his face. "Someday when I grow old I'll go back, find a wife, settle down. But for now I am a man of the sea. I hope to be a captain someday."

Silence fell and remained as the two watched the sun rise and light the world. Leo came to lean on the railing next to Susan.

"I did not choose to leave my home, I was made to," Susan murmured.

"Because of the war?"

Susan was pulled out of her trance. She had been thinking of Narnia, enveloped in the world of memories. Only when the man spoke did she realize they were, in fact, only fantasies. In this word, England was her home.

"I'm sorry, I should go." She spoke hurriedly and turned away quickly.

"Wait! Will I see you again?" he called after her.

The question remained hanging in the air, unanswered, as the door closed behind Susan.

When Susan's cabin mates woke up several hours later that morning, they found her sleeping peacefully in her bed. When Mrs. Pevensie came to bid her daughter good morning, she told the girls to leave her be, and let Susan sleep.

A cool breeze blew, and a chill shuddered through her spine. The breeze blew through the tall trees around her, and the leaves whooshed.

Susan walked, gazing in wonder at her surroundings. She took in all the sounds; birds chirping, flapping wings, buzzing, the whistle of the wind, flowing water…

She reached a clearing. In the middle of it stood a vast and branched tree in full blossom.

Suddenly, a great lion appeared from the bushes behind the tree.

Susan gasped. "Aslan!"

"Come hither, dear child."

Susan walked quickly to Aslan and got down on one knee before him. "I am unworthy of your presence," she mumbled. "I tried to push you and Narnia out of my mind and forget you."

"Yet you have been unsuccessful," he answered in his deep voice. "Rise, Susan the Gentle, Queen of Narnia."

She looked into the lion's eyes and gasped as she rose. His eyes were a deep amber, just like the eyes of the young man she had met earlier had been.

As if reading her mind, Aslan spoke, "Leo was a test; I needed to see that you truly love Narnia and its dwellers. He began walking and she followed along aside him. "Tell me, Susan, do you love King Caspian?"

"I—um…um…" she stuttered, blushing a bright red.

Aslan chuckled. "I suppose that's a yes."

Susan blushed even deeper, smiled shyly and nodded.

"Dear child, would you like to return to Narnia?"

Susan looked up at him in surprise. Her eyes were as big as two silvery-blue moons. "Y-yes!"

Aslan stopped and stood before her with a somber expression on his majestic feline face.

"Child, I cannot say that I am pleased with your behavior in your world, and I wish you would improve it and be strong for your sister and brothers, but there _is_ another option. I could return you to Narnia, and Caspian, but you will have a heavy price to pay."

Susan's eyes shone with tears of excitement. "Anything, Aslan, I'll do anything to return to Narnia! Just tell me what it is that I have to do!"

Aslan sighed deeply. "Child, I fear this is an option you have already thought of, though you didn't know it could bring you back to Narnia."

"I don't understand."

"Continue as you have and, in time, you will. Though I must warn you Susan, this is a dangerous path, and one you cannot regret. If you go to Narnia this time, you will never return to this world [again]."

"What about Peter and Edmund and Lucy? What of my parents?" she asked, her voice suddenly filled with fear.

"I cannot promise you will see them again."

Susan bit her bottom lip and lines formed in her forehead.

"You may take some time to make your decision, but mind you, not too long, or I will not be able to guarantee that you will indeed return to king Caspian the Tenth's time."

Susan gawked at him, radiating pure fear.

"When you make your decision, I will know."

And with those last words, he turned and walked back into the forest.

"Wait, Aslan! What must I do?" she cried after him, but the great Lion was long gone, and her question remained unanswered.

Susan woke up.

**AN:** Wow! Longest chapter yet! What do you guys think? Questions? Assumptions?...


	6. Chapter 5: Returning to England

**AN:** I am so, so, so sorry! I didn't mean to not update for such a long time! I have a lot of pressure from school right now, and about a million different things I'm supposed to do. I also had some serious writer's block and a really hard time writing this chapter in general. It's sort of this in-between chapter I had to write to get to where I want the story to go, but I wasn't really sure _what, _exactly I would put in it. On this note, I apologize if any of you find this chapter dull or boring; I assure you better things are coming up ahead! (Although it may take me some time to update again).

Enough with my blabbering! You guys want to read, and not my [rather] lame excuses!

Also, thank you to all those who added this story to their alerts and took the time to review; those reviews make my day

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, only the plot. These characters belong to the great and marvelous C. who has oh-so-kindly made them up and shared them with the world. So thank you C.S. Lewis for this, and thank you to the makers of the Narnia movies (another thing I do not own nor am a part of) for bringing these wonderful stories to life and creating Suspian.

**Homecoming, I'm coming****  
****My sweet mistake****  
****Summer's over, hope it's not too late****  
****I'm pacing, impatient****  
****Up in my head**

…

**I'm coming home, I wanna know****  
****When all the leaves begin to fall****  
****If I'm falling, falling apart for you**

…

**Descending, I'm spinning****  
****Lost all defense****  
****How could you swallow me again?****  
****I left you, I meant to****  
****Couldn't let you in**

**-Homecoming, Hey Monday**

5. Returning To England

It was strange being back in England. Though it had only been three months since she had last been here, it felt like it had been eternity.

As she walked down the bridge plank, Susan looked out at the city. It was an unusually nice morning for London, though the city looked just the same as ever.

Susan had her suitcase in her hand, and her parents followed behind her. They all made their way down to the dock, and from there out, towards the street. They stopped at the port's exit and caught a taxi. Soon, the arrived at their house.

Susan watched as her father pulled a key out of the pocket of his trousers and unlocked the front door. She helped carry in their luggage and put the things in place. Her mother went straight to the study to write a letter to Peter so he'd know he can come back home. Her father was down in the lounge, pulling the sheets off the furniture and dusting the place, so she went to help him. They walked around the house together, pulling off sheets, dusting, and cleaning.

"Susan!" her mother called after a long hour of working.

"Yes mother?" She went to the kitchen where her mother stood with an envelope in her hand.

"I need you to run a few errands. I need you to send this letter to Professor Kirk and go to the market to buy groceries; I have nothing to cook supper and dinner with."

Susan nodded obediently. "Yes mother."

Mrs. Pevensie handed the envelope to her daughter along with some money.

"Before you go to the market, go see your siblings at your aunt and uncle's house. They would be so excited to see you. Have them come shopping with you, if they'd like."

Susan nodded again and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Susan dear! Don't forget to send the letter!"

"I won't Mum!" she called back at her.

She went up to her room and grabbed her purse. She put the money in it and slung it across her body. Then she fetched the basket her mother always used when she went grocery-shopping.

With all those and the letter in hand, Susan made way to her first stop—the post office.

She didn't spend much time there; she made sure the letter had the right address on it, a stamp (which she paid for) and left as silently as she had come.

Next, Susan made her across town to her aunt and uncle's house. It was a warm, humid day—as befitting a late summer day in London—and Susan felt her skin become moist. She was most relieved when a breeze began to blow and somewhat relieved the heat. Overall it was a rather nice day, and Susan enjoyed her walk, despite having to walk quite a distance. Her basket hung in the crook of her elbow, and she walked quietly across the streets of London.

She had walked for almost an hour when she finally reached the house. She walked up the few steps and knocked on the door.

She was grateful that she had arrived. Her body was not as strong as it had once been, and the long walk took a toll on her. Her skinny legs ached with the effort they had once been able to endure all too easily.

The door opened and a smiling Lucy appeared before her. At the sight of her older sister, Lucy's eyes became large and her smile turned exuberant. She leapt at her sister and wrapped her arms around her, pulling Susan into a tight hug.

Lucy frowned. There wasn't as much to hug as she had remembered. Susan was too bony under her hands.

She pulled away and looked at her sister who smiled softly, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Susan, is everything alright?"

"Of course it is, silly! I've missed you Lucy; how have you been?"

Lucy dived in to her stories, telling her sister everything there was to tell about the summer—though she did not speak of Narnia—and let them both in.

"Lu, who was that at the door?" a young man's voice called from upstairs. The two sisters paused at their bottom as the watched Edmund rush down in quick steps.

Susan admired how much he had grown over the summer. He had become taller and more muscular, losing the boyish features and chubbiness he had once had. His facial features had almost become those of a young man, and his voice had grown lower. Though she had already watched this change occur once, it was still strange to her to see Edmund so grown up.

"Su!" he cried in joy and enveloped his older sister in a tight embrace. Just as Lucy had, he noticed the change in his sister, but made no comment about it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as they parted.

"We just came back this morning. I'm running errands for Mum; she said I should come see you."

"Just this morning, hey?" Edmund raised an eyebrow. "And she already has you doing chores?"

Susan smiled softly at her brother. "She and Dad are cleaning up the house; she sent me to buy groceries for supper and dinner."

"We'll come with you!" Lucy piped up cheerfully.

"I would like that. But wouldn't Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta mind?" Susan furrowed her brow and looked down at her little sister.

Edmund laughed. "Have us out of the house of our own will? Not only would they not mind, but they would be happy! Besides, it's just us here at the moment, Uncle is at the office and Aunt Alberta took Eustace to the dentist."

Susan nodded. "Alright then, come along."

The left the house and made sure to lock behind them.

As they walked, Lucy continued to tell Susan about their summer with their cousin.

"He's changed so much since we were in Narnia, he's almost fun sometimes now," she elucidated.

Susan's heart faltered and she stopped. Edmund glared at Lucy. Then he noticed Susan was no longer with them, so he turned around in search for her. She was a few steps behind, leaning on the banister of one of the houses they had passed, gripping it for support. He went back to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Su?" he asked gently.

"I'm alright;" she huffed, "just got a dizzy spell."

"Can you walk?"

She nodded. "Yes, yes." She let go of the rail and they continued walking.

They walked through the market, and Susan picked vegetables, flour, and other necessities while Edmund made her tell them about her summer in America. She talked about the different people with their strange accents, the different scenery, and the parties. But what her siblings were amused by, was the opposite direction of driving, and they had a hearty good laugh about an incident their father had, driving on the wrong side of the road (no one had been hurt, so they allowed themselves to laugh about it).

Edmund kept glancing back at Susan. Though her voice was clear, it wasn't as loud and strong as it had been. Her eyes didn't shine and her smiles didn't reach them. Once, he saw her hand tremble as she reached to pick the apples. He thought he must be imagining, but her skin seemed paler as well.

They returned to their aunt and uncle's house at a half past noon. Aunt Alberta was already back with Eustace and was in the kitchen, cooking. She called Lucy to help her, and the girl ran to the kitchen obediently. Aunt Alberta was also eager to hear all about her sister's and her family's adventures in America, but Susan apologized and explained she was in a hurry to get home and deliver the groceries to her mother, so she could cook supper. All this while, Edmund lingered around; he insisted on escorting Susan back home. Aunt Alberta eventually caved, and waved off the siblings.

The walk back home took them a little over an hour, to both of their dismay. Susan had become weary from her morning of wandering, and was unable to walk according to Edmund's vigorous pace. Eventually, Edmund shortened his long strides and matched them to Susan's slow pace. They spoke little, most of the stories from the summer had been told—all except those from Narnia, but Edmund didn't dare open the subject with Susan. He was afraid of her reaction to it; in past attempts she had done anything from burst into tears, to yell at them in fury, to completely denying Narnia's existence, and Edmund was in no mood for any of those. He worried about his older sister; she had become more fragile and he was afraid to say or do anything that might upset her, for fear of hurting her. So he simply watched her, trying to learn the changes by observing her behavior.

When they got home, their parents greeted Edmund with big hugs, smiles, and a kiss from his mum. Both of them were just as astonished by how much he had changed as Susan had been. She in turn, walked around the kitchen, putting things in place and beginning to prepare their meal. Her mother joined her shortly after, and the two worked over supper. When she was needed no more, Susan went up to her siblings' rooms and began cleaning and organizing them with Edmund's help. He had stayed after their mother managed to persuade him to join them for supper.

Sometime later, the four of them sat around the dining room table and ate their first meal back in England. At his parent's insistence, Edmund told them of his and Lucy's summer, and listened as they told him of theirs. Edmund sat and paid attention despite having already heard most of the stories from Susan, even laughing at his dad's story of his misfortune with the direction of driving. All in all, it was a good supper, and the food was delicious.

At the end of the meal Susan excused herself, put her dishes in the kitchen sink and left for her room. Edmund stayed behind to help clean the table. Before he left, he climbed to the second story to find Susan, wishing to bid her goodbye.

The door to her room was closed, so he knocked softly on it. There was no answer. He tried again, to no use. He went to the library, and did not find her there either. He searched several more rooms before giving up. He was standing just outside the lavatory when he heard a strange noise coming from inside. The door was not closed completely. He knocked twice, and then pushed it slightly, so that a small gap opened. What he saw shocked him so that his mouth fell slack. Susan was on her knees, grasping the toilet seat with both hands and leaning over it while she vomited.

"Su!" He ran to her and held her hair back. He waited until she was finished and then helped her up. He continued to hover protectively as she washed her face and mouth of the sour taste.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, concern laced through his voice.

For the first time in a month, Susan spoke the truth. She turned to him with a chalk-pale face, a dead expression, and tears in her eyes. "No," she whispered.

**AN:** As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, and hope to update again next Thursday or Friday.


	7. chapter 6: Deteriorating

**A.N:** I am so, so sorry for not updating for such a long time! I know no excuse will be good enough, but still… I had major writing block (I couldn't write anything for a really long time) and I had these huge tests which are like the British A-Levels (I think…), and their score will, eventually, determine what university I will be able to get in to. So you see why I was sort of nervous and unable to write… But I'll be writing a lot now, since I'm finally on summer vacation and I intend to do a lot of writing this summer (mainly because the tests I had this year were only a minor part of my whole diploma, and I have another eleven like them next year in different subjects; not to mention each test has at least two tests before it that are like it and determine about 40% of your grade of the final exam…).

So you get my point; I was busy and selfish, so I haven't updated in a long time. But I am updating now! So I'll shut up and let you read…

Disclamer: I do not own the characters, only the plot. These characters belong to the great and marvelous C. who has oh-so-kindly made them up and shared them with the world. So thank you C.S. Lewis for this, and thank you to the makers of the Narnia movies (another thing I do not own nor am a part of) for bringing these wonderful stories to life and creating Suspian.

**Summer has come and passed****  
****The innocent can never last****  
****wake me up when September ends**

**-When September Ends, Green Day**

6. Deteriorating

"Can you walk on your own?" Edmund asked, the concern in his voice only deepening.

Susan didn't answer. In truth, she did not answer not because she didn't want to, but because she was not sure what her answer should be. She didn't know if she could trust her legs enough to carry her, even the short distance to her room across the hall.

Edmund came to stand next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. With the other, he held her elbow. Keeping her steady in his grip, he led her to her room and sat her down on the bed. Then he crouched before her.

"Are you ill?"

She hesitated, and then shook her head slowly. No, she was not ill, not physically anyway. A broken heart was not considered an illness…

"is this the first time this has happened?" He watched the battling emotions in her eyes while she debated her answer. When she didn't answer, he didn't know what to make of it.

"Should I tell Mum or Dad?" he continued to question.

An alarmed expression crossed her face and she shook her head fervently.

Edmund looked at her a bit skeptically. Finally, he caved. "Fine, but you have to promise me something."

Susan looked up at him with eyes full of questions, but eventually nodded her head slowly.

"Ly down and take a nap for some time. I'll come again tomorrow. If this happens again, or you feel any sort of sickness, even the smallest of things, you tell me Su. Understand?"

She nodded softly.

Edmund got up from his crouch. He took her head between his hands and kissed the top of it.

"Sleep now, alright?"

Edmund walked to the door, and stopped at the doorway, turning back to Susan. He watched as she leaned down carefully, and pulled delicately at the end of the strings tying her shoe closed. Her moves were slow, attentive. She slid off her shoe, and proceeded to do the same with the other; all the while, not noticing her younger brother was watching. When she finished, she pulled herself onto the bed. There was something about the way she moved that caused Edmund to think lifting her legs and shuffling on the bed in an attempt to find comfort was an effort for her; as is she had to force each limb to change its position and lift it up to the bed.

She lay with her back to him. Edmund remained just another silent moment before he left, sighing softly.

As she lay on her bed, Susan pondered what had just happened. She didn't know what had caused her meal to come back up, but she had a guess. For weeks now she had been eating scarcely, or avoided eating altogether, whereas today she ate, and even tried to make it look like enough food to satisfy a hungry teenager. Though she had been unsuccessful in eating the amount she attempted to, Susan had eaten an amount of food greater than anything she had eaten as of late. Thus, it would be no wonder that her body could not cope with the quantity of food and want to get rid of some of it, or perhaps all of it.

The thought that her body might not be able to contain food substance did not bother Susan, as she did not feel want for it. She had deprived her body of the stuff for so long, that neither it nor her mind craved it anymore…consciously.

Susan let her right hand fall over her stomach, and lay her left arm along her body, bent at the elbow so her closed palm was right before her face. Thus, she fell into a deep slumber, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

That night, after dinner and after they had both bathed, Edmund inched quietly to Lucy's room. The adults were awake, sitting in the lounge and reading. Eustace had fallen asleep; the large encyclopedia he had been reading lay open on his chest, falling and rising in time with his breathing.

Edmund pushed the door to his younger sister's room open. He winced when it creaked softly and froze. He waited and listened to see if the adults downstairs had noticed, or perhaps Eustace was not sleeping as heavily as he thought and would get up to see what the strange noise was. After a few silent moments had passed, and Edmund could detect no reaction to his doings whatsoever, he pushed the door open further. He slid quickly into Lucy's room and shut the door silently and tightly.

Lucy sat on her bed, reading a book by the dim light of a kerosene lantern—the only thing her aunt and uncle could find to replace the electrical one that had broken. Lucy didn't mind; besides, it was preferable to the option of using a candle.

"Lucy?" Edmund whispered.

Lucy jumped and stared at Edmund with eyes full of surprise and fear. "Edmund! You scared me!" she cried, dropping her book in her excitement.

"Shhhhh!" Edmund put a finger over his mouth and rushed to her. "Lucy, be quiet! If Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta hear you, you'll get us both in trouble!" he hissed.

"Okay, okay, sorry; I'll be quiet." Lucy huffed, pouting. "But it's your fault you know, you're the one who scared me."

Edmund sat down beside Lucy and she scooted around a bit, moving her legs and making room for him to sit comfortably.

"Yes I know, sorry about that. I just realized we hadn't spoken about today, just the two of us, so I wanted to come over and have a chat with you."

Lucy's face immediately brightened up. "It was quite a lovely surprise was it not? It was great seeing Susan, but I can't wait to see Mum and Dad. I can't believe you, you're so lucky you have already seen them. How are they? Are they well? What does the house look like after standing alone for all this time? Gosh, it must be so dusty! I must come with you tomorrow; Mum would like the help with cleaning the house…"

Edmund felt overwhelmed by the quick flow of words out of Lucy's mouth. Her face was animate, her cheeks flushed with pure joy and excitement. Edmund listened only half-heartedly to her ramblings; he didn't find any interest in most of them. The image of Susan vomiting over the toilet and carrying herself with such caution plagued his mind.

"Did you notice anything strange about Susan today?" Lucy suddenly asked, somewhat more calmly.

Edmund perked up at the question, and wondered what he should answer. He didn't want to worry Lucy. Besides, Susan had asked him not to tell their parents; he doubted she'd want their sweet, innocent little sister to know. After a few seconds, he shook his head. His reaction was somewhat delayed, and that caused a suspicion to rise in Lucy's heart.

"She seemed skinnier to me when I hugged her; didn't you notice? You'd think with all the parties they must have gone to she would have gained weight, not lost it. Perhaps American food isn't as nourishing as our food, though I doubt it. They must be doing better than we are, what with this war and all."

Edmund just nodded silently.

Lucy heaved a sigh and grimaced. "Edmund, you said you wanted to have a _chat_. You know that requires _both_ sides to speak, right?"

Edmund looked up at her. Something about the emotions playing on his face caused him to appear lost, helpless.

"Is everything alright, Ed?" she asked him. Her voice was quiet, concerned.

"Yes, yes," he answered, at first somberly, but then his voice grew stronger, more confident. He had to at least seem sure of himself, put up a front in order to make Lucy think everything truly _was_ alright. "Sorry Lu, I'm sorry for being so distracted. I'm simply tired, I suppose. I'll go to bed and we'll both sleep well tonight; get rested. Tomorrow we'll go home and help Mum and dad with whatever they need, alright?"

Lucy looked suspiciously at Edmund as he patted her knee and got up from her bed, yet she smiled all the same.

"Goodnight Lu," he said as he left.

"Goodnight Edmund," she whispered softly. She put a book mark in the page she had stopped on and put her book on her bedside table. Then she turned the little knob on the kerosene lantern, until it dimmed and was put out completely. She lay back in her bed and stared at the ceiling. In his room, Edmund did the same.

Eventually the two siblings drifted off to a deep, untroubled sleep—with one difference between the two: whereas Lucy thought of the next day and fell asleep with a smile, Edmund could not erase the happenings of the day from his mind, and fell asleep with a frown.

Edmund and Lucy had both woken up very early in the morning. They both hurried to complete their chores, as they both wished to go to their home as quickly as possible, each for his or her own reasons. Lucy was 'super excited' as she had put it to see her beloved parents, whilst Edmund was still worrying about Susan.

After Aunt Alberta handed a basket of food and baked goods to Edmund (it was too heavy for Lucy to carry it) and instructed him to give it to his mother—and not eat from it until given permission to do so!—the two were on their way. They walked quickly, urgent and excited, and got to their home in a much shorter time than it usually would have taken.

Lucy knocked on the door, and the two listened to the approaching footsteps on the other side. When the door opened, Lucy was immediately engulfed in her mother's arms, and returned the hug willingly. Once the doorway had been cleared for him, Edmund walked past the two hugging and joyously weeping couple, and strode to the kitchen. He put the basket down on the marble counter and went to search for his father and older sister. Meanwhile, Lucy and Mrs. Pevensie entered the house.

"Mum, where's Dad?" Lucy asked in her high trilling voice with was now somewhat muffled by the tears she had shed.

"Your father went off to the war office, and afterwards he will be going to the Foreign Affairs Ministry (**a.n.**: I'm not sure that's what the British actually call it, but this is the closest translation I could find) to sort out some things about his job." Mrs. Pevensie looked down at her daughter's sadden face and stroked her head comfortingly. "It's alright, deary, he shall be back for dinner, and he will be here all afternoon. The two of you are, of course, most welcome to stay and dine with us."

Lucy's face brightened up noticeably. "Of course we'll stay, Mum!" she said cheerfully and proceeded to kiss her mother's cheek.

Edmund looked about the kitchen, looking for the other missing figure. "Mum," he said carefully, "where is Susan?"

Their mother looked up from her happy daughter with a blank expression. "I-I don't know," she admitted, her eyes wide. "Last night I went up to her bedroom to call her to supper, but she was sleeping, so I didn't want to wake her. That's the last time I saw her."

Edmund bolted towards the stairs, and raced up them frantically. When he reached Susan's room he grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open hastily. There, across from him, lying on the bed, was Susan. The fact that she was in precisely the same position he had left her in the night before did not help ease his conscience. He crossed the room in quick steps, and crouched before her bed.

"Su… Susan!" he whispered at first, yet as he got no response, his calls got louder. He laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her.

He was completely unaware of his mother and sister standing in the doorway, watching, confused.

"Come on Su, wake up!" he almost yelled.

Suddenly, he felt a response; a slight turn of the arm he was gripping tightly.

"Ow," Susan croaked. Edmund sighed, and smiled in relief.

Susan turned and came face to face with him, their faces only centimeters apart. "Edmund, what are you doing?"

"Su, how are you feeling?"

"Like a bloody floor rag. Edmund, what are you doing here, you said you'd only come back tomorrow."

Edmund looked at her incredulously. "Su, it _is_ tomorrow. I left at three in the afternoon yesterday; it's nearly ten in the morning now. You've slept over twenty hours."

Susan's eyes became wide as that information sank in. the tears rose in them, and she whimpered.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, we'll take care of you. You're probably just tired from the trip back from America; you need to rest. We'll take care of you, I promise."

Susan nodded hesitantly. She tried to sit up, but her body was stiff from the long hours of lying in one position while she slept. She whimpered, and Edmund hurried to assist her.

"I'll get her something to eat." Her declaration was what alerted the siblings of their mother's presence, and the two watched as she turned and led Lucy away with her.

Edmund stayed with Susan, and for a while, they just sat. Until Susan had suddenly 'collected' herself, and went to the bathroom to take a bath and clean herself up. She took a change of clothes with her, and Edmund blushed thinking how awkward it would be to encounter his older sister in only a towel.

When they came down to the kitchen twenty minutes later, their mother served Susan a light breakfast. Susan only managed to eat about half a slice of bread with butter before she ran to the lavatory and it all came back up. The same happened when her mother served her broth, and even the clear chicken soup she had trouble keeping down.

As the day went on, the three watched, and suddenly the changes in Susan were much more defined to their eyes. Suddenly, they noticed the sickly pallor in her cheeks, the lack of pink in them, how much thinner she had grown, how her once lively spirit had all but vanished.

In the late hours of the afternoon, Susan had finally collapsed from fatigue, and an eerie silence fell in the house.

Edmund hat sat by her while she was falling asleep, and now that he was sure she was completely unconscious, he seeked solitude. He wandered down the stairs, and ended up in the library, where he sank in a big, plush armchair.

A question, asked by a soft, high, melodic voice made him jump in his seat. The voice came from the young girl, sitting on the couch beside him, yet he had not noticed her when he entered the room and sat down. The question was every bit as innocent, and sad, as the sweet girl who had asked it.

"What's wrong with Susan?" Lucy asked.

Edmund really did not know what to answer.

**A.N**.: Wow! This came out the longest chapter yet! And to think, I had writer's block when I started writing this yesterday (yes, yes, I'm sorry for the ginormous delay, I've already apologized for that) and could barely get past two hundred words. Guess this day just got better the later it got!

Personally, I thought I did kid of a crappy job with this chapter… so tell me what you think about it! Review, review, review, people! There aren't many people reading this, so I know you can all review!

Love you all, and I'll update ASAP; seriously I'll start working on the next chapter tomorrow. Though I'll probably be going back to updating once a week on Thursdays, so you guys have nothing to worry about!

Review!


	8. Chapter 7: Archery and Dreams

**A.N.:** Hey guys, sorry for the delay, I had a crazy busy week. I hope you enjoy this strange little chapter my mind has conjured. As always, don't forget to review and I own nothing!

**And they say****  
****She's in the Class A Team****  
****Stuck in her daydream****  
****Been this way since eighteen****  
****But lately her face seems****  
****Slowly sinking, wasting****  
****Crumbling like pastries****  
****And they scream****  
****The worst things in life come free to us****  
****Cause we're just under the upper hand**

-**The A Team, Ed Sheeran**

7. Archery and Dreams

Peter sighed and looked up from his big book. His eyes wandered to the window and he gazed longingly to the grounds. It was a beautiful day outside, and the sun was shining, making the vibrant green of the lawns even more vivid than it already was. The shadows of the great oaks cast promised a nice place to lounge in and just lie on the grass.

It seemed he hadn't been outside in ages. His days were mostly spent studying, despite it being summer holiday. He aspired for greatness—as he had since first becoming king of Narnia—and felt much studying was needed in order to prepare him for his university entrance exams. He knew he was one of the best students of his class, and was confident in his grades, yet was still anxious his achievements were not enough.

_I'm becoming like Susan_, he chastised himself. It was an awful thought to realize how much he had become like his ambitious, school-loving, know-it-all younger sister.

The thought of her made his mind wander to the bow and arrow that were hidden in a secret cupboard downstairs. The professor had purchased the weapon when Peter complained about not being able to sword fight with anyone.

"I know it is not your sport, nor weapon of choice, but at least this you can do alone," the Professor had explained. Peter had learned how to use a bow and arrows; Susan had made sure of that long ago in the Golden Age of Narnia. Professor Kirke was right, and Peter knew it. So he accepted the generous present and used it to practice. The Professor and Peter both knew Mrs. Macready would make a fuss over having the weapon in the house, so they decided to hide it in the cupboard at the bottom of the stairs whose door was hidden by a large tapestry. Peter couldn't possibly fathom why the austere housekeeper had such an aversion to the weapons the Professor gave them and keeping them in the house. It was unreasonable and irrational. How were the swords hanging on the walls any different from their metal or play-wood ones?

Peter shook his head and returned his focus to his studies. But after a few minutes, he found he could not concentrate on the work anymore and marked the page, before closing the big book in defeat. H left the papers and books as they were, and nearly ran out of the library. He paced quickly through the corridors, and raced down flights of stairs, the need to breathe fresh air burning strong in his lungs. He reached the tapestry and looked around carefully before pulling it away from the wall and sliding behind it. With his hand, he felt for the doorknob of the cupboard. Once he found it, he pulled the door open just enough for him to slide through and still go unnoticed. He made sure to close the door behind him tightly, and then pulled the chord that hung from the ceiling and turned the light on. He scanned the room, until his eyes lay on what he was searching. With a small grin tugging at his lips, Peter grabbed the quiver and bow and snuck out as stealthily as he had come.

Once he could feel the soft grass under his feet, he broke into a run, grinning broadly. He slung the quiver's strap across his body and held the bow in a tight grip.

He ran around the mansion, and only stopped once he was on the lawns he saw just minutes ago from the library window. He reached the shadow of a big oak and dropped to the soft grass, lying on it and spreading out his limbs, the bow and quiver lying next to him.

He laid there for a while, breathing in the fresh air and staring up at the leaves of the tree above him swaying in the wind. Between the thick canopy of vibrant green leaves, he could just catch glimpses of the clear blue sky and the great, voluminous clouds sailing them. He watched as a brown leaf fell and slowly drifted to the ground, swaying back and forth in the light breeze. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head, and Peter leaped to his feet. He grabbed his bow and quiver and strolled north, away from the mansion and toward the orchards.

When he finally got there, he felt the satisfaction of a good exercise fill him and his eyes shone as he scanned the trees, looking for one heavy with fruits. In the distance he could hear the workers' chatter as they picked the apples. Yet he knew they could not see him, nor would they disturb him; they always began with the trees farthest from the mansion and its gardens, and made their way towards it. The whole orchard took about three to five days altogether, as they were not many men and the Professor had no wish to employ others; he didn't mind. Those men had been working in his gardens and orchards for years, and even their sons and now grandsons had come to work for him. Professor Kirke's mansion was these people's home, and both Peter and the Professor understood how important it was to let them stay there; let them come and go as they wished.

Peter strung the bow once. Then, he picked an arrow and aimed at an apple in the branches above him. He released the arrow and watched as it flew, and missed its target as the tree branch swayed in the wind. Peter did not despair and tried again and again, until all the arrows in the quiver had been used. Then, he circled the tree and collected all the arrows and two arrows he had managed to hit. He put the arrows back in the quiver, cleaned the apples on his trousers and took a bite. He seated himself in the shadow of one of the trees. He leaned on the trunk of one of the trees and continued eating.

The early afternoon air was full of the aroma of autumn, and the sweet apples in the orchard. The air had grown hotter, as the sun rose higher in the sky, and the area was filled with serene silence. Peter assumed it must be noon, and the workers had gone on their lunch break. The heat became uncomfortable, so Peter rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt and removed his shoes. He let himself soak up the tranquility that surrounded him and let his mind wander off to far districts and long gone times.

Peter walked in the gardens, the flaming colors of the setting sun casting the gardens in the castle's shadows. The summer air was warm and moist, yet the breeze blowing from the ocean cooled the king off.

He reached his hand out to a beautiful white rose, and caressed its petals with the tips of his fingers.

"It's exquisite, isn't it?" a soft voice asked behind him.

Startled, Peter turned. Before him stood Susan, her porcelain skin alight by the colors of the sunset. Though he was her brother, he was also a man, and he couldn't deny she had grown up to be a bewitching woman. She was glorious; in her looks and airs as well as in her ability to rule Narnia with kindness and protect their beloved home.

"It is," Peter answered.

They stood like that for quite some time, each in their own thoughts, quietly basking in the sunset's glow and the beauty of the gardens.

"Was there-"

"Do you-" They both began at the same time, and then laughed. His deep, rolling laugh and her bell-like giggles combined into a beautiful symphony.

"You go first," Susan said, flushed with laughter, and gestured to Peter.

"I was meaning to ask you if you had something to say, why did you come, but it seems I've stopped you from doing just that."

"Ahh," she smiled, nodding, "it seems you have."

Again, there was a long silence.

When Susan finally spoke, the sun was just disappearing into the sea. "Do you ever wish to be married?"

Peter's head snapped up to her in surprise. "Susan, is there something happening that I am not aware of?"

Susan's eyes widened in alarm. "No! No! Goodness no! It isn't anything like that!" Peter looked at her confused, yet relieved. "It's just… Look Peter, you are twenty seven and I'm twenty six. We've been king and queen for quite some time and… I think our subjects are expecting…heirs."

"Pardon me? Susan, I don't think I understand. Are you suggesting we, um, ah…h-have a _child_? _Together_?" inquired the bewildered king.

"By the Lion no!" Susan looked appalled at the thought, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry, brother; I am being unclear and making a fool of myself. Please forgive me. What I meant to ask was…" she hesitated. "Peter, do you think I should get married so that Narnia would have an heir to the throne?"

Peter was stunned into silence. It took several moments, but he finally recovered from his shock. "Susan, if you want to marry someone, all you have to do is tell me and we'll have it arranged. But if you feel obligated to marry and have a child because of Narnia, than you should not."

She bit her lip. "Walk with me?"

He nodded.

And so they walked the gardens' paths, while the light in the sky faded slowly behind them, until there was nothing left but dark-blue sky and a couple of stars. All this time, they continued to speak.

"Pete, I think I want a child," she admitted sheepishly, her cheeks flaming bright crimson.

"Su?"

"Here me out, Peter, please," she pleaded. "Look, we're both adults here. It's normal for me to want to fall in love with someone, marry him and have his child. But…I'm afraid."

"Su, why are we talking about this? What are you afraid of?" Peter tried to stay calm, but the conversation was becoming too bizarre for him to do so.

"Peter, do you believe Aslan will let us live our whole lives here?"

Peter stopped, and Susan halted beside him. "I don't know Su."

"You asked me what I'm afraid of. Pete, I'm afraid of leaving Narnia. I'm afraid that the life I have built here would be taken away from me. If I continue to build it, I might one day lose it, and I fear that. I want that life—I want to be loved, be a wife and a mother—but I am so terribly afraid to lose it that I feel I cannot allow myself to build that life." She paused and Peter looked at her worriedly. "I've had plenty of suitors, and Aslan knows there are probably many more to come. But I can't help but feel as if, maybe, Aslan might be preventing me from falling in love with any of them; saying 'yes' to any of the courters. I don't know if I should thank him from protecting me or be angry that he'll be taking my life away from me."

"Su…"

"Hey lad, are you okay?"

Peter looked up and met two kind old blue eyes, surrounded by many wrinkles.

"Boy, are you alright?"

Peter felt disoriented and blinked haziness out of his eyes. He must have fallen asleep, he realized. The dream he had just had was very strange. He remembered the day, but he couldn't begin to imagine why his subconscious would bring it to the forefront of his mind and cause him to dream of that day.

"Yes, I'm alright."

Shouts distracted the two men, and they both looked to the south. "Mister Pevensie! Sir! The Professor is calling for you. He says it's urgent; you must come immediately." A young boy, several years Peter's junior, ran towards them. He looked frantic, and Peter became alert instantly. He rose to his feet, grabbed the bow, slung the quiver across his body, and hurried after the boy. Peter ran as fast as he possibly could. On and on he ran, until they reached the mansion. Peter burst through the front door and bolted up the stairs to the Professor's study. He found him there, sitting like a statue at his desk. Peter sat on the armchair across from him and caught his breath.

"We have received a letter from your brother and youngest sister. Susan has fallen ill; they ask that you come home immediately."


End file.
